Differences
by PlushVocalist
Summary: AU for Assassin's Creed Syndicate. Takes place in a more modern setting. Evie Frye is attempting to juggle her ambitions to become president of SGA of Whitechapel University, keep her focus on her classes, as well as handle her ever growing complications with the sweet Henry Green. And we all know that her ever present twin brother Jacob Frye won't make it easy for her.
1. Chapter 1

The cacophonous ring of the school bell flooded the entirety of Whitechapel University. Countless students streamed into the hallways, already polluting the long corridors with their senseless chatter. Despite the vocal distraction, Evie Frye remained hunched over the stack of test papers littering her desk, her face scrunched in concentration. It was the second exam of the semester; she had already aced the first without breaking a sweat, and she had barely studied for that one. Not that she was proud of that acknowledgement.

However, it wasn't her fault.

She had spent a good majority of time that _should_ have been dedicated to intensive studying sweeping up after her brother's mishaps instead. Jacob and his infuriating gang of Rooks had wreaked havoc throughout the campus. Vandalizing the dorm building, initiating all sorts of gang-related fist fights from which he almost always emerged bruised and bloody but proudly triumphant, disrupting lecture sessions, and simply failing to show up to his registered classes were just a few of the crimes Jacob had committed ever since their freshman year, and it had become routine for the authorities to call on Evie to put a leash on her mad hound of a sibling.

A small smile reached her lips as she rotated the head of her pencil over the smooth flesh.

She supposed it wasn't all bad. In fact, Jacob's delinquent behavior served as a surprisingly beneficial platform for the older twin, and she needed that platform to become the new president of Whitechapel University's Student Government Association. Dealing with Jacob proved to the student body that Evie Frye was more than capable of handling any situation, especially those deemed impossible, as most considered the task of controlling Jacob Frye more than a little unfeasible.

Unfortunately her twin's actions were as much a curse as a blessing. To be frank, Jacob gave the 'Frye' name a bad reputation. Although students would be more willing to vote for a candidate who could manage their concerns, the fact that Evie was related someone so unorthodox could still steer her votes towards her adversaries. She could prove them wrong. There was greatness in the Frye blood, and once she became president, Evie would be certain that their name would never be disgraced again. She practically beamed at the thought. Father would be proud.

"Excuse me, Miss Frye?" A soft but urgent voice sliced through Evie's thoughts.

Her cerulean eyes shifted upwards to the space beside her desk, taking in the sight of her frail history professor, Miss Francis Adams. Ms. Adams' silvery hair was tied away from her face in a tight bun. Lines of age had already left their mark on older woman's face, and in her emerald hues one could see her years of wisdom as well as a little unease as she stared down at Evie through thin rounded spectacles. Evie blinked, embarrassed. After a quick surveillance of the room, she realized that she was the only student remaining at her desk; the rest had fled ages ago.

 _Damn, I let myself get distracted again._

"Oh! I apologize..." Evie began, hastily rising from her seat with papers in tow. She gave her exam one last look over before pasting them into the professor's hand.

"I was a bit worried. Usually you are the first to complete my exams. Was it more difficult than usual?" Ms. Adams questioned as she brought the bundle of paper to her face, scanning the material in an attempt to pinpoint which question could have possibly given Evie such a hard time. "Er, no. I simply took my time reviewing my answers." Evie mumbled as she bit her bottom lip. Reviewing her questions _had_ been her intention, but her thoughts had taken a course of their own – inevitably leading to Jacob (a seemingly bigger distraction with each passing day).

"Mm, very well. If you don't mind Miss Frye, I would like to grade this right now." Miss Adams said with a pleasant smile.

Minutes later, Evie emerged from her history class with her professor's proud statement echoing in her head, ' _Perfection Evie, as usual,'_ Perfection. Yes, that was exactly what Evie shot for, and she wouldn't let anyone, not even her "dear" brother Jacob stand in her way . With a spring in her step, she strolled through the emptying hallways, joining the mass of bodies dispersing to their individual destinations.

* * *

Disruptive cheers erupted from the University's Courtyard. A good handful of curious onlookers had crowded around the decent-sized perimeter and were entirely fixated on the violent entertainment unfolding before them. In their midst stood two well-built shirtless men, their massive arms tucked near their faces for protection as they traveled in a tight circle - sizing each other up and preparing for the first blow. The scruffier man, a red clad Blighter, threw the first punch. His bundled fist flew forward with impressive speed, but not fast enough. The other male easily side stepped out of harm's way. His large fingers seized the Blighter's forearm over his shoulder and with one fluid motion, he bent the limb until the unmistakable crunch of bone snapping beneath flesh could be heard.

The crowd roared their encouragement.

The Blighter stumbled backwards as pain engulfed his form. He held his injured arm, feeling the broken bone shift inside his body with even the slightest movement. Just as he was about to release a howl of agony, his opponent's knuckles slammed into his face. Crimson fluid streamed upwards from the Blighter's broken nose, and a resounding thud was heard as he toppled lifelessly onto the floor. The Blighter's compatriots were quick to come to his aid, dragging his body away from further damage. Unfazed by the spurge of cruelty, the spectators praised their new champion, who raised both arms in victory and flashed a wicked grin.

The newly crowned title-holder was none other than Jacob Frye himself, the fearless leader of the Rook gang. His bare sculpted torso glistened faintly with tiny beads of sweat, and blood could be seen clinging onto his fists as the crowd's spokesperson scurried over to his side and bellowed in a loud voice, "Ladies and Gents, I present to you, your winner of today's gang war, Mister Jacob Frye!" No sooner was this exclamation made before a dark figure lunged at Jacob from within the horde. Gasps of surprise was heard, and a flurry of green activity was seen as the Rooks shoved forward through the human swarm, preparing for battle.

This was not a part of the arrangement. Jacob had bargained with one of the Blighters that supposedly owned this section of the University: if Jacob, and Jacob alone, could take down the entire group (a handful of semi-experienced men), then the Blighters would back off and the Rooks could own whatever they'd like. What the Blighters hadn't been expecting was for Jacob to tear through their reinforcements as easily a piece of paper at a shredder's mercy. Now, it seemed they were desperate. The sweaty assailant that clung to Jacob from behind with his arms strapped over Jacob's throat was living proof of that.

A mischievous smirk spread over the twin's mouth as he quietly spoke over his shoulder to his unknown attacker, "Go ahead. Make my day, fucker."

The Blighter lifted his head at the words. He had been expecting the Rook leader to call for his scumbag reinforcements or even freak out at the sudden attack, perhaps throw his body around in a panicked frenzy; however, when the Frye twin turned towards him with fierce burning eyes and a calm knowing grin, his heart sank.

Before he could even think about retreating, Jacob's skull reared backwards, crashing into the other man's face. His strong arms grasped his clothes in an iron grip, hefting the smaller male off of his feet and tossing him unceremoniously over Jacob's body and onto the hard unyielding concrete ground. The Blighter lay motionless on the floor. He didn't dare move for fear of the pain that would surely overtake him. He stared blindly through a haze of red as blood as Jacob casually reached over to a nearby bench, grasping his crisp white shirt and shrugging it over his bare figure. All the while, the Blighter held contact with the Rook leader's deadly eyes. As he continued to watch, Jacob's lips quirked into a simple half smile and he moved to stand beside his fallen enemy. The last thing the Blighter would be able to remember would be Jacob's feet rising to meet his face.

"Oi, you alright boss?" One of the Rooks asked as they crowded around their leader.

"No, the damned tosser stained my shirt,"Jacob grumbled, his hand seized around the thin fabric of his shirt that held the offensive burgundy stain. _Hm, perhaps I kicked him a little too hard.._ With a sigh Jacob dropped his shirt and turned towards the crowd, which parted automatically for the gang's exit. "Rooks, with me." He said with a confident smile. The Rooks followed without delay, leaving the Blighters to deal with their losses. Jacob could practically feel the countless number of eyes boring into the back of his head from both the Rooks and student body. It was about time they woke up and realized who was _truly_ in charge here at Whitechapel.

His gaze drifted downwards to catch sight of the unattractive bloodstain once more. One of the Rooks could've sworn he heard the boss mutter, 'Curses, this was my favorite shirt too.'


	2. Chapter 2

_Sorry it took forever to post the second chapter. I have not written in a super long time, so...bear with me. I would love to get some feedback on the story, and I hope you guys are enjoying it. Also I forgot to say this before, but you guys know I don't own any of the Assassin Creed characters (i.e: Jacob, Evie, Thorne, Green, etc.). Thanks for the support!_

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

The Rooks spilled out into the clearing of the newly claimed Courtyard, which happened to be a wide expanse of open space consisting of more grass than sidewalk. Lines of skinny wooden trees decorated the quaint scenery in an elaborate striped pattern, and residing in the heart of the clearing – an intricate antique stone fountain sporting a very nude cherub with delicate hands, a curved harp, and a rather smug smile as water sprouted elegantly on either side of his chiseled form. The high-spirited mob surrounded the fountain – all eyes pinned to the Jacob, who planted himself onto a bench and faced his followers with an impish grin.

"Alright boys, what's next on the agenda?"

Silence settled over the group, much to Jacob's disappointment.

' _Any second now, and I'll hear crickets,'_ he mused to himself.

Sighing inwardly, he tipped his head sideways, allowing his stubbled jawline to fall into his palm. Crushing the Blighter's stronghold on the Courtyard today had all been Jacob's idea as well as raiding the cafeteria the day before.

As leader of the Rooks, he knew that most expected any plans of action to originate from his own brilliant mind – which didn't bother him in the slightest since his "loving" sister Evie was usually quick to dismiss his suggestions no matter how "clever" he thought they were. Although it was nice to have people who actually _listened_ to him, it would be equally pleasing for them to offer their own proposals every now and then.

The silence became stifling, and Jacob felt strangled by it. Several of the Rooks made awkward gestures – clearing their throats and scratching their napes under the weight of the unbearable quiet.

Finally, a hand from the crowd shot upwards.

Jacob breathed a sigh of relief. _Finally!_ Giving a subtle jut of his chin, he permitted the volunteer to speak. The lone Rook started in a quivering voice, wincing when it sounded much too loud in the expansive silence, "Um…well, w-we could go for a drink at a pub..."

So much for a potential idea. Jacob grimaced then shook his head. "Does anyone else have any ideas?" His brown hues swept through his gang, and he opened his arms wide, as though vying to draw any solutions from their seemingly empty minds.

That one idea – however awful – seemed to have encouraged the rest of the Rooks to voice their opinions. Shouts leapt from their mouths and mingled together to become a noisy debate. Most of the ideas Jacob ignored – casting them off as completely unfit for his mood or simply uninteresting. That is, until one particular suggestion reached his ears above all the other clamorous outbursts. Like a rejuvenating shot of adrenaline, it propelled the youthful male out of his seat with wide eyes and an extended finger to sift out its source. "You. Step forward."

The gang froze. In fact, when Jacob had had his random flare-up, most of them had been engaged mid-speech. Now, with mouths agape, they returned their attention to the bold Frye as well as the green-suited fellow that rose up to meet him. "What's your name?"

Jacob's head fell to one side as he observed the other. Strands of his dark hair brushed over his forehead, casting a shadow into his burning brown eyes as they scanned shamelessly over the fidgeting gang member. The Rook's face sweltered in uncomfortable heat. As much as he wanted to, he could not break the embarrassing eye contact with his boss, who was saying very little and failed to lower his pointing finger from the space between his eyes since he had stepped up from the uniform crowd. "It's Edward, Mr. Frye." The Rook responded – if only to break the itching awkwardness.

"Eddie~" Jacob crooned, his earlier rigidness melting into an easy half grin that curved his lips. Edward blinked – bewildered – by the unexpected change in his leader's attitude. He had little time to contemplate however, as the enthusiastic twin draped one heavy arm over his scrawny shoulder. Edward wheezed as the breath was easily knocked out of him. In no time at all Jacob had whirled him around to face to sea of blank-faced Rooks (who still had no idea exactly what was going on).

"Would you like to share your outstanding proposal with the class?" Jacob murmured with obvious delight in his eyes. Edward cast him a sidelong look, not quite understanding his excitement. His idea wasn't even that clever. "A party." The words barely fled from the Rook's lips before Jacob intervened, his grin stretched broad.

"A bloody celebration Rooks! The grandest that Whitechapel University has and will have ever had! Stars spun in Jacob's hues. He could see it all now – a party that upcoming students could only _dream_ of living up to. A party worthy for the Frye name. His gang roared their consent, countless fists rising to pound the air in untamed excitement.

* * *

 _"_ _Good day Miss Frye."_

 _"_ _Miss Frye, how are you?"_

 _"_ _Having a good day, Miss Frye?"_

The pleasantries were becoming a bother. Evie tucked a stray strand of her dark hair behind her ear as she turned to flash a smile she didn't feel towards one of the random students that had addressed her.

Being respected was one thing, but having someone treat her as though she were ancient china on the verge of shattering was another. It was tiresome, especially when she could easily outplay any foe that challenged her.

She was _Evie Frye._

Strong. Intelligent. Determined, Evie Frye.

Yet, people still masked their expressions with polite smiles and gave false and often unnecessary compliments as though one wrong look or honest opinion would have her bawling like a babe at their feet.

Her brows furrowed with frustration.

It wasn't that she wanted people to be rude. After all, she deemed herself as valuable treasure as any other woman of her age. But would it kill someone to treat her as a regular human being?

Apparently not.

A slender leg suddenly wedged itself in Evie's path. Her instincts took immediate action, twisting her body out of harm's way before her mind could catch up.

Her eyes locked onto her target and was met with the snarky smirk of Lucy Thorne – her nemesis in the polls, and perfect example of the treatment Evie didn't want to receive. Miss Thorne sneered at Evie, subtly tucking her leg back into its rightful place before commenting in an innocent tone, "You should watch your step Frye _girl_."

Encouraging snickers were heard from Miss Thorne's minions – better known as Thorne One, Thorne Two, and Thorne Three (all thorns in Evie's ass specifically). "I suppose it can't be helped. You seem to always get into situations that are over your head. Weren't you home-schooled for most of your life? And you think you can just _stride_ in here and take over SGA?!" Thorne's head tipped back as an incredulous laughter burst from her mouth.

Evie's jaw clenched. It would be all too easy to strike the red-headed witch in her pretty little face.

And oh how Evie _wanted_ to. Her hand curled into a solid fist at her side, but she was keenly aware of the people that had begun to gather around, their senses seemingly able to pick up on the tiniest possibility of a brawl.

Burying her rage, Evie pulled on a tight smile before responding, her tone carefully restrained, "That's exactly what I plan on doing," She closed the space between them, now staring the devil directly in her eyes, "and when I'm finished with you, you'll be licking the dirt off of my boots."

The brief expression of astonishment that passed over Miss Thorne's face was priceless. ' _Shame I don't have a camera on me,'_ the Frye twin thought fondly as she turned on her heels and marched off with head held high. The photograph would have made a lovely accommodation to her prized collectibles.

* * *

Evie ducked into a nearby restroom. The earlier adrenaline from her fleeting encounter with Miss Thorn still coursed through her veins. She planted shaking hands on the sink, and stared back into the fiery aqua hues glaring at her from the bathroom mirror.

' _Easy Evie. Remember your focus.'_

It was true. She and Jacob had been home-schooled by their father for most of their lives. The studies had been rigorous, and Evie had pushed herself to unbelievable limits to make Father proud; Jacob, on the other hand, suffered greatly under their father's iron grip due to his constant rebellion against his teachings, which inevitably led to shouting matches between the two. Once their father passed, Evie remained submerged in his work: dutifully resuming the education she knew he would have aspired her to. It was one of the main reasons that she fought to become president - the other being to free the students of Whitechapel from Lucy Thorne's tyrannic influence.

The faucet creaked in protest as its knobs were turned; chilly water came forth, splashing into her open hands before she washed away the tension in her muscles. She was so caught up with her inner thoughts, she almost missed the conversation occurring within the stalls.

"Could you believe Evie Frye had the guts to stand up to Miss Thorne like that?"

"I know. I had a feeling she was secretly a badass. Will you vote for her?"

"Probably…if only to get good favor from her brother."

Evie blinked away surprise as excited squeals sounded from the stalls.

"Ah yes, her brother – Jacob Frye! What a delicious beauty!"

"I bet he tastes just as delicious as he looks."

' _Woah…'_

"God I hope so. I just want to feel his large hands all over me. I'd let the handsome bastard do whatever he wanted."

"He could bend me over anytime of the day."

"You know they refer to him as a 'horse' for a reason. I'd love to hold the bulk of him in my hands."

'… _What the bloody hell?!'_

More girlish squeals.

One glance in the mirror revealed a highly flushed, embarrassed Evie, her eyes like saucers. She hadn't realized how tightly she had been gripping the sink. Smothering heat settled over her like a shroud, and she became distinctly aware of the warmth spreading like ripples between her legs. She couldn't - _wouldn't -_ listen to anymore of this lascivious talk of her brother. Mortified, she made a dash for the exit – the continuous rushing water from the faucet not enough to drown out the ringing in her ears.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter** **3**

4:59.

Henry Green checked his watch for the third time within fifteen seconds. Today was going to be the day he suggested that Evie Frye go out to lunch with him. It was a task he had been working himself up to since the twins had arrived in Whitechapel, but the time never seemed right. With a sigh, he shrugged the sleeve of his shirt over the watch's face; he didn't want to appear anymore edgy than he already felt.

Nevertheless, anxiety made him restless. His eyes zipped around, taking in the massive bookshelves flanking his table on either side as well as the sparse amount of students littered about with their noses tucked into the books of the University's library. The library had become a significant location for Evie and Henry. Not only was it the place where their friendship had first bloomed (seeing as how they both enjoyed a quiet space for concentration and the company of books), it also became their favorite place to plan and shoot the breeze.

A blur of motion tore him away from his musing. The vacant seat beside him now held Evie Frye's embodiment, and she flashed him a shaky smile – her cheeks a deep rosy hue.

"Miss Frye, are you alright?" Henry asked. He raised a hand as though to touch her forehead – thought better of it – and dropped it against the table.

"Quite alright, Mr. Green. There is no need for concern." Evie's smile simply broadened in an attempt to persuade him. She raised hands to her face, sweeping them across her hot damp cheeks and slipping her unkempt hair back into place. Agitation was written across her features, and Henry couldn't help but wonder if she had rushed here to avoid being late. He glanced down at his watch; it read five o'clock for the afternoon. She was punctual, as usual.

"I will fetch you some water," Henry insisted and rose from his chair. Evie turned to watch him disappear around a bookshelf before releasing a heavy sigh. The unfamiliar clenching of her abdomen was finally beginning to fade to a dull ache – much to Evie's relief. But what had made her react that way? There were not a lot of surprises out there for Miss Frye, and this had been one of the few.

 _'_ _Embarrassed! You were just horribly, horribly embarrassed!'_ Her logic seemed to scream out at her. The divine aching betwixt her legs seemed to argue otherwise. But logic won over emotion, because Evie always sided with logic.

When Henry finally returned with the cup of water in hand, Evie accepted it gratefully and took a long slow sip. Every gulp of the icy liquid doused the flames smoldering in her belly until the flush was erased from her cheeks. After lowering the cup onto the table, she offered Henry a genuine grin, her blue eyes sparkling with appreciation. Henry was thankful for his bronze skin as his own cheeks filled his color.

"Well, to move forward with today's plans, I believe I have found a way to turn the polls in your favor," Henry began. He retrieved a wad of bundled notes from his blazer and spread the sheets over the table. Nervous energy set his skin abuzz once Evie leaned in to examine his handiwork. "Rooting out Miss Thorne seems to be the best course of action for now. Of course, it's easier said than done. Miss Thorne has good connections throughout the University, and I do mean people of authority." Henry continued, his emotions carefully guarded.

"Wonderful…so how do we knock the mighty queen off her throne?" Evie murmured more to herself than her accomplice beside her. Her slender fingers captured the selection of photos that Henry had scooted over her way. Gregory (the University's disciplinary officer), Jane (the vice president of Whitechapel University), and Dr. Peter Williams (one of the most favored professors on campus) all stared back at the Frye twin with solemn expressions – _definitely_ people of authority and, more importantly, her newfound targets of interest.

"I propose we inform the Headmaster of her vile deeds. Let him see that she is unfairly fighting her way to become the president of SGA." Henry stated with a small smile. "From what I could find out, it doesn't seem like Miss Thorne has corrupted the University's President yet, which provides the perfect opportunity for us to strike first."

"We can't go to the Headmaster empty-handed. We'll need proof if we are to bring accusations." Evie piped up. The plan of action was building itself in her mind like pieces of a puzzle slowly joining together. "And how we come about this evidence –"

"Stealth and careful planning." Henry completed her thought with a knowing upturn of lips. Like two kids who had just discovered the hiding place to a cookie jar, the pair grinned at each other. The relative plan was complete. All that was left was fine-tuning it and putting it into action.

"I believe that our successful planning calls for a celebration, Miss Frye. After your brother's party, would you be willing to go out with me for…" The words died on Henry's lips as he caught sight of Evie's face. Her countenance had turned grave, and her thin eyebrows knitted together in blatant disapproval.

"What did you say?" She inquired.

"I-If you'd be willing to go out with me for lunch?" Henry offered.

Evie frowned and shook her head. "No, before that. Something about Jacob."

"Mr. Frye?"

"Yes, Jacob."

"I don't recall -"

" _Mr. Green_." Evie stated, impatience hardening her voice to steel.

Henry sighed, realizing that he had said too much. There was no getting out of this, especially with Evie as determined as she was now. "Your brother is planning on throwing a party…"

Evie bit back a groan. Shutting her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose as though that would settle the frustration boiling within her. "When? Where?"

A troubled frown spread over Henry's features as he shook his head apologetically. "That is all the information I have as of right now. I apologize Miss Frye. I thought you knew."

Evie paused mid-rise from her chair. Mr. Green was right. It was something she _should_ have known, and that made matters worse. It was troubling that Jacob hadn't uttered a word to her about his plans – especially something as festive as a party.

But now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember the last time she and her twin had a decent conversation since they had step foot in the University.

A strange pang closed its hand over her heart.

While Father had been alive, the two had been nearly inseparable – mainly spending their time trying to prove which of them was the superior twin. Unfortunately their profound relationship deteriorated along with his health. Once they enrolled in their classes, the Frye twins split ways, both engrossed in their own paths.

Evie bit her lip. It seemed what was left of their infantile childhood had diminished completely.

The niggling pang around her heart tightened.

Henry watched as Evie lifted herself from the chair. Even as she pushed a smile his way, he knew her thoughts were focused elsewhere. Despite this, he found himself smiling back.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Green," Evie vocalized. Her hands flew across the table. Deft digits scooped up the useful paperwork, especially the photos depicting her targets. Folding the papers into miniscule squares, she tucked it into the pocket of her blazer and turned to leave.

"E-Er, Miss Frye!" Henry exclaimed. His face caught fire as she shifted to face him with curious aqua hues. "I…um..." Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and he raised an arm to sweep away the moisture. His heart was a frantic bird stowed away in the cage of his chest, beating as though it were trying to break free.

He wouldn't back out now – he'd spent years preparing for this moment. "About lunch-"

Evie smirked. "I accept your invitation. We can meet here on Wednesday. Same time as always."

* * *

Once he was sure Evie had left, Henry expelled a breath he hadn't realized that he had been holding. Relief crashed down on his shoulders like a waterfall, and he ended up doubled over in his chair, laughing at his prior needless worry.

She had accepted his offer, and that was all that mattered now. He couldn't stop the goofy smile that broke across his face. His heartbeat resumed its wild pace. Though, this time, it had nothing to do with anxiety.

* * *

Evie made her way purposefully to the West Wing of the University – better known as "Testosterone Territory" by the residents due to the fact it was where all the male students were housed.

She crossed into the elevator, her fingers punching the button for the third floor. Not only was the University divided by gender, it was also organized by educational year. And seeing as though they were both third year students, it meant they both resided on the third floor. Once the elevator bell dinged, Evie stepped out, right into an overly crowded and uproarious corridor. Unlike the East Wing, which was relatively quiet, quaint, and controlled, the West Wing was constantly abuzz with some sort of action. Today's activity: wrestling.

Ducking beneath the enthusiastic men rough-housing in the halls, Evie soon stood before Jacob's door. She reached for the knob and turned (if she knew her brother, then his door would be unlocked). With a gentle click, the knob gave way beneath her hand. She couldn't hide her proud grin as she slipped inside.

' _It's good to see some things don't change.'_ She pondered fondly.

Jacob's door was _always_ unlocked. Once the twins had reached adolescence, Ethan had decided they should keep separate rooms and granted them privacy through locked doors. Whereas Evie had seized on the opportunity - locking her door whenever she went out - Jacob claimed that keeping a set of keys was too much a burden (seeing as though he kept misplacing them) and had kept his room unlatched since then. Evie remembered those days all too well. Jacob, small and sulking, would stand in her doorway, and she would try to contain her smugness as she kneeled in front of his door, forcing her way past its troublesome security. Needless to say, she developed some exceptional lock-picking skills during those years.

 _'_ _And I wish some things would change,'_ Evie grumbled to herself, her nose wrinkling in displeasure as she gazed about the room.

Jacob's dwelling was atrocious: a bad habit he refused to grow out of. Uniform shirts were scattered along the floor. Spare slacks were tossed over furniture, and what appeared to be a pile of dirty laundry was clustered in one corner of the room. Everywhere Evie looked, she could pinpoint something out of place.

It was a shame to have such an adequate dorm defiled at her brother's hands.

The dorm was private - meaning Jacob couldn't traumatize the unfortunate soul that would have been his roommate - and included a concise cooking space (complete with refrigerator, table, microwave, and stovetop). As a bonus, the University had even thrown in a tiny entertainment center (comprised of a large couch and television set with some unknown game console hooked up to it). Jacob's room lay at the end of the dwelling, along with the bathroom.

Stepping around the unkempt mess on the floor, the female twin paced over to her brother's door, only to have it swing open mere inches from her face and reveal Jacob Frye – his brows drawn together in concentration as his eyes swept over the notepad in his hand. Jacob murmured incoherently to himself and set his pencil to work, scribbling unseen words onto the page. When he finally glanced up, he appeared genuinely shocked to see his twin standing in his doorway.

"Evie!" Jacob exclaimed, his arms sweeping to either side of his form as his lips shaped a charming smirk. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Her eyes were drawn to his smile: sour with mischief and sweet with charm. That mouth – _his_ mouth – lay claim to her attention. It clouded her thoughts and ground her logic to shambles.

 _He could bend me over anytime of the day_. The words bubbled to the surface of her mind: unbidden.

The tingling sensation from earlier returned. She could feel it blossoming in her abdomen and circulating along her inner thighs, setting her entire body on edge. What was happening to her? "Jacob…"

Jacob's cocky grin gradually faded, concern quick to fill the void. Evie was staring at him – her usually sharp eyes now vacant and obscure. And when she spoke his name, she sounded… _breathless_. "Yes?"

He hadn't known what he had been expecting to happen, but the painful snag to his ear was at the bottom of the list. With an irritated growl, the older Frye twin had reached up with amazing speed, pinched the shell of her brother's ear, and yanked hard.

This felt better.

Her firm grasp on his ear seemed to anchor her. Logic fought its way back to her conscience, and the intense fluttering in her stomach settled.

"Ack! E-Evie! What is this about?!" Jacob shouted, his unfortunate ear at her mercy.

"You know exactly what this is about, you simpleton," Evie sneered, "I said no more parties. Especially not from you!" Her hold slackened, and Jacob quickly recoiled, rubbing away the soreness from the side of his skull.

"It's a simple celebration. Nothing to get worked up over."

"A celebration for what, pray tell me."

"A celebration for the Rooks! We've managed to take over the Courtyard!" Even while catering to his injured ear, Jacob still managed to beam with satisfaction.

"That isn't cause for a party, Jacob. Especially when the Blighters still control so much of the campus," Evie declared, exasperated.

If her twin was bothered by her annoyance, he failed to show it.

"Then we'll just strike them down – one by one, day by day – until the bloody twits don't have a leg to stand on." The wicked grin was back, accompanied with a fiendish glint in his hazel hues. It took all of Evie's strength not to whack her brother upside his head. He still aimed too low; not to mention that his plan of action almost always included rushing in and brawling someone: a faulty tactic

Jacob's eyes narrowed as he observed Evie's condescending attitude. It reminded him too much of Father – always critical of every move he made. His grin vanished and he brushed past his twin, his face twisted into a scowl. "This is why I didn't tell you. I knew you'd react like _this_." He gestured in her direction with his hand before crossing the room and planting his rear into his couch; the notepad clattered noisily as it fell onto the table.

The words punched a hole in her heart. She turned to face his retreating figure. Frigid ice sparked in her eyes, her defensive tone barely under restraint. "I think my reaction is quite justified based on your prior "adventures," Jacob visibly flinched. Evie continued. "You're rash. Pigheaded. Reckless! Constantly delving into these spontaneous escapades that cause more harm than good!"

"And you're no fun!" The younger Frye shot back, an angry flush climbing up his neck.

Silence stretched between the two. Evie allowed his words to sink in, her expression poker-faced.

' _So that's it. I'm not…fun?'_

It was a possibility, and a damn good reason why Jacob never sought her out anymore (since _fun_ seemed to be all that he cared about). Her eyes scanned his face; the initial rage was fading, giving way to a display of remorse.

Well, she would prove she wasn't a stick in the sand. She could be _fun_. Raising her head, Evie faced Jacob. A newfound determination shone in her eyes. "Very well, Jacob. You may have your party." The astonishment that crossed his face pulled a reluctant smile to her lips. "On the condition that I have a say on what's allowed."

Jacob groaned inwardly. However, this was the only chance he was going to get. He had no choice but to roll with the circumstances. "Fine…" He muttered, defeated. He couldn't bear to look at the victorious grin on his sister's face as she pranced over to his side and settled on the couch. He slid the notepad her way, watching through the corner of his eyes as she gazed through his list of plans for the special occasion.

"No fire," She stated after a few seconds. Reaching for his discarded pencil, Evie drew a bold line through the scrawled words. The masculine Frye bolted upright, incredulity marked on his features.

"Eves, please tell me you're joking."

She folded her legs beneath her and fixed the other a calm stare. "Remember the bonfire party you threw for our fifteen birthday?"

Her brother's eyes sparkled at the memory. "It was the highlight of the entire -"

"You almost burned down the entire block." Evie stated matter-of-factly. "That's _eight_ houses, Jacob."

She was right, and he knew she was right. And that just made him feel all the more inferior. Large arms crossed protectively over his chest as he muttered to himself, "Everything looks prettier when set aflame anyway." A sudden thought popped into his head, and he shifted to face his sister with one brow perked in unconcealed curiosity, "So how did you discover my plans for a party?"

"Mr. Green told me." She claimed after a moment's pause.

"Ah, Greenie," Jacob nodded, as though everything suddenly made sense now. His hand absently rose to his face, skating around his tamed facial hair. "That's strange. I don't remember sending him an invitation."

Evie glared in his direction.

"Oh come on, Evie. I jest!" Amused chuckles fled from his throat.

"No fire," she repeated with more force. The pencil's lead raced over the page, drawing another prominent line through the words.

* * *

 _A/N: I would just like to thank everybody who has given me support. You guys are awesome! I am having a blast reading a lot of the fanfiction on here as well as writing my own. Keep up the good work guys! I'll have Chapter Four out for you soon._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Thursday passed by like a blur. Evie went to class per usual, except she wasn't actually _there_. Sure, her body occupied her respective seat in her classes, but she scribbled nonsense in her notebooks instead of notes, drowned out her professors' lectures with her own distracting daydreams, and spent a majority of time gazing up at the clock, her pencil tapping impatiently on her desk.

She simply could not focus – or more accurately put – she could not focus on anything other than Jacob's impending party. It was a test, and like any other test, Evie was committed to success.

When Friday finally arrived, Evie could be found cooped up inside her dorm room, presenting herself in front of her mirror while she fiddled with her appearance.

 _'_ _Fun, Evie. Think fun.'_ She berated herself after weaving her hair into its common style: a frustrating force of habit. Quickly, she redid the twists, twining the braids with more elaborate flair on top of her head. Eyeing her reflection for flaws, she thumbed the unpigmented blouse she had chosen for the night: a simple yet elegant garment that sported playful frills and exposed her bare shoulders. Her skinny jeans clung to her waist, courageously pointing out every alluring curve and dip the Frye twin's lower portion had to offer. To top off her look, she had added earrings to her ears and a choker to her throat.

She turned this way and that, examining how the outfit aligned with different poses. All in all, she supposed she looked fair.

Outside, the University's clock struck ten.

It was time to move.

Evie strode towards the door, hiked on her thigh-high boots, and disappeared into the night.

* * *

The Courtyard was packed with guests; it seemed the entire student body had shown up for the rowdy celebration. Like moths drawn to a flame, they clustered around the dance floor, their bodies gliding in unison in an organized dance. Colored lanterns were strewn across the lawn, bathing the leafy terrain in an exciting spectrum of hues.

And of course there was ale, and plenty of it. Fastened like a glove to every visitant's hand, it was constantly being poured into empty mugs, tossed down countless throats, and – if its holder was tipsy enough – accidentally sloshed onto another drunkard's attire.

Evie sat cross-legged at one of the tables with a mug of ale cradled in her own hands. Her cheeks burned pink with intoxication as she watched the sea of scholars twirl stylishly across the Courtyard. Perhaps she had splurged a bit on the alcohol; the world did seem to have a funny tilt to it, but that hadn't discouraged her from hitting the dance floor whenever a gentleman beckoned for a jig. Grinning madly to herself, she took another small sip from her tankard. As impossible as she had initially thought, she was actually _enjoying_ herself.

Laughter from the crowd bombarded her ears, followed by the sweet flow of music from the band playing live on stage: "The Colossal Trio," if Evie remembered correctly. They had just completed their latest number, which brought forth dazzled applause from both Evie Frye and the joyous crowd. Lifting brass instruments to their lips and drumsticks to their hands, the Trio began their next tune, and Evie froze with her mug's brim to her lips.

She knew this song.

Thumping bass flooded the perimeter, shaking the very earth beneath Evie's feet. Jazzy notes folded around her. _Possessed_ her. Before she knew it, she was compelled out of her seat and into the swaying tides of people. Her hips moved of their own accord, matching the song tit-for-tat. Her hands followed suit, climbing overhead to surf the air.

Trumpets roared. The drums thumped off a staccato rhythm. _This song_. ' _Why is it so familiar?'_ Evie brooded as she racked her befuddled brain. Surely the answer was in there somewhere; she just couldn't quite reach it.

Her train of thought skidded off its tracks, however, when a strong set of fingers meshed with her own and shepherded her body into a quick twirl exactly on cue with the funky tempo. From the thrilling buzz from her fingertips, she already had an inkling of who the stranger might be. One glance up his arm revealed her suspicions as true: Jacob Frye stood staring back at her, utterly dumbfounded, as if he couldn't believe that the young woman dancing so tantalizingly on the floor could be his sister.

For Jacob was under the same spell as his twin. Spellbound, he had been led to the jiving sea, his eyes drawn to one woman in particular whose body shimmied on the same wavelength as his own. He reached for her hand without a moment's thought, and was struck dumb once familiar blue eyes turned his way.

His mind barely registered her flashy clothing or the fact that jewels sparkled from around her throat and ears – although the accessories came as a pleasant surprise, seeing as though Jacob merely shrugged on a leather jacket over his usual wear – instead his attention centered on the rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins, the connection of their hands as they tied together, had always belonged tied to one another.

But then the music was controlling him again, and his hand situated itself against her waist, leading her into a volley of breath-snatching spins.

 _It had been raining that night. Father had left her in charge, stating that he had an urgent lead to follow-up on. Evie had jumped at the chance despite the possibility of her brother attempting to wreak havoc in Father's absence. Surprisingly, the little gremlin was compliant – sitting quietly beside his older twin on the couch as she gazed at the dancing figures moving fanatically across the television. It was some sort of old-timey movie: a musical, she could remember that much. In their living room, the hours bled away, and Evie was amazed that Jacob had managed to sit still as long as he had._

 _But all good things must come to an end._

 _With an exaggerated sigh, Jacob leapt from the couch and tapped the television, one index finger pointing out one of the flailing actors. "I bet I can dance better than him," he stated with a smirk. Evie snorted, skeptical. "Of course you can Jacob," With an unsubtle roll of eyes, she turned her attention back to the black and white film. Her sarcasm was of no deterrent to the younger Frye though, and from her peripherals, she watched him jive across the living room in a whirl of motion. She couldn't help but be slightly impressed – fascinated, even – with his accuracy. Every shift of his feet aligned almost perfectly with the music coursing from the television's speakers. It seemed Jacob had been paying attention to the dance classes Ethan Frye had insisted they study. But this was nothing like the methodical waltz that had been drilled into their heads._

 _This was the swing! Sporadic and zesty. Fun and carefree._

 _The floorboards echoed with Jacob's quick footwork – his movement erratic, excitable. She felt her pulse quicken up until the very end of her brother's dance._

 _Evie was impressed, but she knew better than to show it – it would only go to his head; his ego was big enough already. Instead, she gave another roll of the eyes._

 _"_ _As if you can do any better…" Jacob grumbled, tying arms over his chest as he eyed his sister critically. It was challenge, and they both knew it. She had raised a questioning brow, and he knew he had her. Evie slipped off the couch, and his hand had immediately clasped her own. Evie could feel her heart rate picking up again, the hairs lining her porcelain skin stood at attention, her breath came in quick narrow puffs, her blood sang – all of this she had attributed to one thing and one thing only: simply her eager desire to outperform her brother. And suddenly, they were in motion, setting fire to the living room floor._

The song playing now was the song playing then. That was nearly 10 years ago, and yet, the past threatened to repeat itself. Just like before, Evie could sense the invisible strings lacing her and her twin together. Their feet stomped lightning, they glided across the field as though it were composed of ice. Laughter poured from her lips. With every twirl, every spin, worries she hadn't realized she had harboring, melted away – Henry, the SGA situation, even Lucy – became an infinitesimal speck in the gorgeous world that was Evie and Jacob Frye.

 _Rejuvenated._

 _Free._

 _Buoyant_.

She was flying, and he was her wings. She couldn't remember ever feeling this alive as he swung her this way and that, both their bodies swaying to the rhythm.

Evie glanced up to see that Jacob was grinning down at her, as jovial as she. Oh, how she had _missed_ this connection, she'd missed the way they moved in effortless sync, their movements entirely instinctual. She'd missed this closeness with Jacob - his smug grin and the familiar scars characteristic to his face. And she especially missed the fun: the carefree, wild, spontaneous flutter in her chest she could only get from her brother: her other half, her twin.

Jacob spun with her cradled in his arms, and then the music halted as it reached its end. Much too soon for Evie Frye. But they were close now. Breathing the same air. And those lips were before her again, shaped as they were in a thrilled grin. She was close enough to reach them now…touch them… _kiss_ them. It should have frightened her to think such things, but it didn't.

The sound of applause broke her trance, and gradually, the world fell back into place: drunken guests cheering their names (she hadn't even noticed that they had backed off to form a courteous circle around them), the festive Courtyard, the Trio bowing to the audience, the unmistakable scent of ale permeating the air. It all came back to her, along with other observations: her hands wreathed around Jacob's neck – his hands snug around her waist and tucked firmly between her shoulder blades, the beads of sweat that sped down his skin, his labored breathing; her heart was in her ears, her breath an uncatchable vapor.

All she wanted to say – _needed_ to say – sat on the edge of her lips. She missed him… _terribly_. Why couldn't she just say that? Staring up in his large brown eyes, Evie found herself speechless. And then the opportunity was lost.

Her attention was grabbed elsewhere as a collective gasp from the crowd had her turning away from Jacob and towards the skies in time to see sprites of color arcing into the air before exploding into a giant splash of vibrant hues among the stars.

Fireworks.

She loved fireworks. Ever since her father had surprised her with the combustible wonder on their eighth birthday, she had fell hopelessly in love. _Sky flowers_ : her special label for the works of art. Awestruck, Evie's eyes remained glued to the colorful parade claiming the night sky. Jacob's lips against the shell of her ear startled her. "I know that you refused my offer for fire," She could feel his warm mouth stretching into a sly grin against her sensitive skin, "but you said nothing about fireworks." She bit her lip as an involuntary shiver claimed her spine.

Overhead, the fireworks continued to burst, filling the air with pigment and gunfire.

* * *

He didn't remember how he had managed to make it back to his dorm. The last thing he could properly recall was his personal surprise for Evie: a special "thanks for allowing me to throw a party Eves!"

Fireworks. She had loved it…as he knew she would. He had reveled in pride when her eyes shone with amazement and awe. He just hoped that she saw his point: fire was the highlight of any party. Oh, and there was the ale! He had consumed plenty of it, if his staggering walk was anything to go by. The world wobbled in his vision as he stopped in front of his door, one hand clutching the door frame the only thing keeping him from collapsing on the floor.

Despite his heavy intoxication, the party had been an ultimate success. Leave it up to Jacob Frye to pull off one of the most extraordinary parties in all of Whitechapel University! And Evie, _god_ , she had actually danced – _really danced!_ He had never seen her move that way. It was a shock – a good shock. Grinning to himself, the masculine twin turned on clumsy feet and began stumbling back the way he had come; the night wasn't over. Not yet…

* * *

Jacob wasn't entirely sure how he would manage to pick the lock on Evie's door in his current state. However, his alcohol-soaked brain reassured him that he would discover some miracle or another in getting in. After all, he was _Jacob Frye_ : master party-planner! Not to mention that his objective was simple: infiltrate his sister's room, read a couple of pages from her sappy diary, get a few good laughs, and then it would be off to bed. A perfect end to a perfect day.

Or so he thought…Later, when his mind was cleared of its drunken fog, he would look back and realize all of the blaring warning signs that he had so foolishly ignored the night before. Warning number one: Evie's dorm door. Kneeling in front of her door, lock-picking utensils at the ready, he was mildly astonished to see that the knob turned easily without resistance. ' _Strange, Evie always locks her door…'_

Shrugging the thought away nonchalantly, he proceeded to enter her room. For the briefest of seconds, he marveled at how organized it was compared to his own. But that was Evie, always so cool and collected. The interior was dark. The lights had been shut off, meaning that Evie had most likely turned in for the night. It would definitely make getting to her diary much easier. His footfalls sounded overly noisy in his ears as he crossed the short space between the dorm's door and Evie's room.

Warning number two: Evie's room door. As before, Jacob kneeled before the door and checked the knob. ' _Damn,'_ he muttered a curse to himself as the knob refused to budge. Locked. He really hated locks. Retrieving his tools from his pocket, he plugged them into the lock mechanism. But then his knees accidentally bumped against the entrance, and Jacob realized that the door hadn't _actually_ been locked at all.

Yes, the lock had been turned on the knob, but the door had never been closed. It swung forward a few inches, granting the younger twin a modest view into his sister's room. His eyes had finally adjusted to the shadows and they whirled about in the darkness, searching for the familiar shape of his twin. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to witness…

It took minutes for his intoxicated mind to make sense of what he was seeing. Bedsheets - they had been flung off her form as though she had been in a rush, one of her hands clutched onto the fabric as though for dear life as her body quivered against the bare mattress. Skin – flushed with crimson color and drenched with sweat…A stunned gasp was pulled from his throat as his gaze fell on exposed breasts, pink nipples fully erect and glistening with her perspiration. She was lying on her back, naked, he realized – well, mostly nude, excluding the tiny panties that dangled helplessly from one her ankles. And her hand worked furiously at the lewd space between her legs. Fascinated, Jacob watched as her slippery fingers worked in and out of her puny hole, her juices glittering like forbidden treasure as they raced down her creamy thighs.

"M-Mm…oh god~" Evie's whimpers floated to his ears. He wanted to clamp his hands over them. Shut out the alluring moans from her plush lips, which now circulated like music in his head. He knew he should look away, should dash out of there as fast as his uncoordinated legs would allow, but he couldn't…he didn't want to. His sister was touching herself, and he was watching…and he simply did not care whether it was right or not.

Her moans intensified. She arched her back, her dainty digits now stroking her swollen bead, her legs parted and quivering with pleasure.

"Fuck…" Jacob muttered as pulled away from the door, his blood whooshing in his ears, his hands shaking. Biting his bottom lip, he dropped his gaze to acknowledge the newfound erection forming a sizable tent within his pants, which seemed to have shrunk down several sizes around his crotch. It trapped his member in a denim prison, suffocated it, as his masculine sex shoved its tip boldly against the jean's metallic zipper, desperate for release.

Evie gasped sharply as her fingers ran over her sensitive clit, sending sparks of pleasure sizzling through her veins. ' _Jacob, Jacob is here_ ~' She couldn't see him, but she could _feel_ him. Just behind her door. Just a few steps out of reach. And he was watching her…

 _'_ _Jacob is watching me_ ~' One of her hands clutched her plump breast, tugging its fleshy end until she squeaked with joy.

 _'_ _I wonder, does this please you Jacob?_ ' Heavy pants fled from her mouth. Her mattress creaked in protest as her hips rocked in untamed rhythm, propelling her fingers even deeper to her aching core. _'Does it please you to see me?'_

Whimpering, she lifted herself upright, gluing her eyes to her ajar door, right where she knew her brother crouched, spectating her every obscene move. It _excited_ her to be seen, it set fire to her skin and an unbearable twinge in her abdomen. _'Please…please look at me Jacob~! Don't stop looking at me!'_ With a seductive purr rattling her vocals, she set her upper limbs to work. Both hands seized her dripping feminine sex, one roughly stroking her clitoris while the other filled her narrow tunnel with as much fingers as she could manage. "Y-Yes! Oh Jacob~! More!"

Jacob had to bite his lip to keep his heated moans at bay. "God Evie..." His jeans were unbuckled, hung at his ankles, his excited cock snug between his digits. Ragged gasps were breathed against the doorframe as his back curved into a pleasured arch, his hand pumping wildly along his twitching rod which readily spilled pre-cum over his fist. He didn't dare tear his eyes away from the door, he was breathing so hard, he was sure Evie would hear.

As though she had, in fact, heard him breathing, she shot upright and stared right at the door. Right at _him._

Their eyes locked.

Jacob froze, his fingers squeezing his length's tip. She knew he was there… _She knew!_ Suddenly feeling like a child caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar, Jacob began a hasty retreat, shame reddening his cheeks. Realization slapped his face like a splash of icy water: the doors, unlocked and inviting…she _had meant_ for him to find her, had known he would come, she had _wanted_ to be seen…

His lungs burned from lack of oxygen, he hadn't realized that he had been holding his breath. Inhaling sharply, Jacob returned to the door and met her gaze once again. She had let her hair down, and the ripples of her dark locks fanned across the bedsheets in lush waves. A rosy flush surfed over her freckles, and dominated her cheeks. Her full lips slid apart, erupting with sensuous moans. But her _eyes_ …It was her eyes that seized his soul. It was the same eyes he had been looking into for most of his life, and at the same time, a completely different set of his eyes altogether. Bright, sharp, and a startlingly deep shade of blue…that was familiar. But the needy clouds obscuring them wasn't.

Those eyes. He'd never forget them. They burned themselves into his memory. Even when he closed his eyes, he could see them.

Pupils the size of saucers. Drunk with lust, they smoldered with desperate desire for satisfaction, desire for pleasure. They _hungered_ for him. And then his name was on her lips. She whispered it - pleaded it - cried it! _'I-I can't hold it – I'm going to –!'_ His spine swooped into a powerful bend as the earth shattered into shards of bliss. Frantic energy surged through his throbbing manhood, bursting forth against the doorframe and his hands in thick ropes of hot white fluid and leaving him heaving for breath.

His body convulsed, shuddered. His face jammed against the door, his sights still focused on his twin. Inevitably, she had reached the same mind-blowing climax as he had. Her spent form lay sprawled along her mattress, long limbs unfurled on either side of her body, fingers coated with her own fluid, the rest of her skin perfumed with her sweat, her legs remained divided, the sheets soaked underneath from her orgasm, her breasts were shapely mounds on her chest, their reddened peaks still ascending to the heavens.

She still peered his way, and her mouth curved into a salacious smile. "Oh Jacob~" she cooed, her hands skimming over her nipples, her body still riding the waves of euphoria. She continued murmuring his name, over and over, until a restful slumber finally settled over her, and she ensconced herself into the comfortable void.

Jacob, on the other hand, sucked in a shaky breath. Sleep was the farthest thing from his mind. The awareness of what had truly occurred between him – _and his bloody sister!_ – finally catching up with his consciousness. 'Shit!' He glanced down his hand. Wet and sticky with his cum. 'Shit shit _shit_!' Hastily, he wiped the mess on his shirt, vowing to thoroughly sanitize it later. His eyes then fell against the door, which had also been soiled with the residue of their sin. With a quaking arm, he mopped up the drying fluid as fast as he could manage and leapt to his feet.

For the briefest of seconds, the world twirled on a carousel. He fell against the wall, bracing himself until his vision righted itself. He had to get out of there – now! Pulling himself together, he took a hurried step towards the front door, only to nearly face-plant into the floor from the jeans hugging his ankles. An image of tiny panties hanging from one of Evie's ankles popped into his head. 'Don't you even think about it, you bloody pervert!' he harshly chided himself before forcing the thought out of his mind. It had been less than an hour and his mind already wanted to reminiscence. Muttering strings of curses to himself, he hoisted up his jeans and scrambled for the exit, the door slamming shut in his wake.

* * *

 _A/N: I apologize that it took me like three years to post a new chapter for this story. I've been caught up in a lot of crap lately: school work, working for a living, relationship crap...y'know the works. But anywho! Read. Reflect. And Comment! Tell me what you like. What you don't like. What you think I could do better, etc! I would love to hear from you guys! Keep reading and writing! Next chapter won't take a millennia...hopefully._


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